Open Wide Your Hearts

Scripture Lessons: 2nd Corinthians 6: 1-13 and 1 Samuel 17: 32-49 Sermon title: Open Wide Your Hearts Preached on June 24, 2018 Our girls joined a swim team this summer, so last week we attended their second swim meet. This was the second swim meet I’d ever been to, so I was going into this without knowing exactly what I was getting into. Initially I thought that these things would be like every other kid’s sport – I thought we’d watch them swim for 45 minutes, then go eat ice cream – but swim meets are different from the other sports they’ve played. At last week’s swim meet, the first race we had a child in was race number three. That was good. We got to the pool, immediately saw some action, but the last race we had a child in was race number 78, so with a swim meet, we’re talking about a four-hour commitment. A lot of waiting. A lot of just passing the time. A lot of parent watching, and you know there are different kinds of parents at a kid’s sporting event. There’s the worried parent, who’s kid is trying to get over to the starting block, but she just keeps applying more and more sun screen. There’s the “still at work” parent, who missed his kid’s race because he got a call from the office. Then there’s the overly chatty parent – who missed her kid’s race because she was talking – but worst of all is the dreaded phenomenon of the parent who is way too in to his kid’s race, yelling, cheering, videotaping. Like a zoologist, I was observing all this, but this being our second meet I was also trusted with a job. I was supposed to record who came in first, second, third, and fourth for all these races, so with all the other parents who had jobs I went to a training in the clubhouse and in the training for this job, the swim-meet official added fuel to the overly-competitive parents’ fire by saying, “This is my favorite age to officiate, because one of those kids we see swim today could be a future Olympian. I’ve seen it happen.” As she said that you could see some parents put their chest out a little bit. I like kid’s sports, and I like a lot of the lessons that kids who are in sports or other competitions learn. After all, life is a struggle, so I think it’s important that kids learn to work hard and try their best. But thinking back to those parents hoping their child is a future Olympian, I worry about those parents who put too much hope in their kid’s athletic ability, because sooner or later we all line up on the block next to a Michael Phelps – some guy with four-foot arms and flippers for feet, and when he leaves us behind in his wake, what will we do? You know, I bet Goliath’s daddy would have loved kid’s sports. You saw him. You’ve heard about him. The measurements listed in Scripture are ancient. 1st Samuel tells us that Goliath of Gath’s height was “six cubits and a span.” That the weight of his coat of mail was 5,000 shekels of bronze. The shaft of his spear was like a weaver’s beam, and his spear’s head weighed six hundred shekels of iron. We don’t have the conversions down exactly – but, know this: he was far bigger than everyone else at the time. Depending on whose conversion chart you use, and which scroll you base your conversion on, Goliath was either 6, 9, or 12 feet tall, carrying around a spear whose tip weighed at least 15 pounds. That’s amazing. Imagine that. Imagine what that giant would do to a soldier with a spear tip that weighed 15 pounds. But really, he didn’t really have to do anything with it. It was scary enough just seeing the man carry that thing around. Every day for 40 days Goliath stood before King Saul’s army and taunted them saying: “Today I defy the ranks of Israel! Give me a man, that we may fight together,” but no one was ready to step up. No one wanted to face him. They just looked at him and his spear. Then looked at the spears they were carrying around and sheepishly walked back to their tents, questioning their manhood. His spear tip weighed 15 pounds. That must have been sending everyone to the blacksmith for a bigger spear tip – because that’s how we think. We have to win, and if winning means investing in some better equipment so be it. You might have read what Darrell Huckaby wrote in the paper last Thursday. “The changing cost of baseball” was the title. He reported that the new median price for a kid’s baseball bat is $250. That’s really something, isn’t it? But that’s human. Maybe you remember the good old days when you could just use your big brothers hand-me-down bat. I remember that my Dad had saved his wooden bats that he used when he was a kid. He even had this crooked one that was special for hitting curve balls – but I wanted the kind of bat that everyone else had, so he took me to a sporting goods store. They had a whole selection of bats, and I picked out one of the flashiest ones they had – bright colors, cool logo. I could hardly swing it, but that’s beside the point. If the other team has their own batting helmets and bat bags, then we want them too. Give us swim caps and racing goggles. If their football team practices all summer, then we had better do the same. Uniforms, gloves, bats, shoes. Weight lifting, private coaching, traveling from one state to another. Drink Gatorade, eat a Power bar, spit sunflower seeds. In sports it’s all bigger, better, faster, stronger, so we were all standing around the pool – and one mom kept yelling to her daughter: “dig, dig, dig!” And I want our kids to dig too. I want them to dig deep and do their best. But when they dig and dig and hit rock bottom – I want them to know who can get them out. The12 Steps of Alcoholics Anonymous begins: First – We admitted we were powerless over alcohol – that our lives had become unmanageable. Second – We came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity. Those are two powerful lessons. Two steps that human competition in sports, school, music, or business would never teach us to take. To come in touch, not with our strength, but our powerlessness. To depend, not on ourselves, but on a power greater than ourselves – if we can’t do that, then what will we do when we face the great challenges of life? There are giants out in our world that we can’t out swim, no matter how hard we dig. Daemons, that we can’t out run no matter how hard we train. Challenges that we can’t push over, no matter how much we work out. There are giants out in our world that we can’t beat on our own, and that’s where the lessons we learn in sports and every other human competition come up short and that’s exactly where the lessons we learn in this place have the power to save. I knew a man once who faced a giant. A lawsuit. It didn’t matter how nice he was or how much he apologized, they wouldn’t drop it. It was the first time in his life that he couldn’t prevail, no matter how hard he worked, because they wanted blood. Night after night and day after day, it was as though the giant was standing before him saying, “Come to me, and I will give your flesh to the birds of the air and to the wild animals of the field,” so feeling as though he were all alone, this man looked within himself, saw that strength he had in his mortal body was insufficient, and knew he was defeated, because hope for him stopped at the summation of his own power. But David - for David knew that he was not alone, and so he looked not within himself, not at his feeble frame, but to the mighty power of God who had saved him before and would save him again. He said to King Saul: “The Lord, who saved me from the paw of the lion and from the paw of the bear, will save me from the hand of this Philistine,” and then he said to the giant: “You come to me with sword and spear and javelin; but I come to you in the name of the Lord of hosts. This very day the Lord will deliver you into my hand; so that all the earth may know that there is a God in Israel, and that all this assembly may know that the Lord does not save by sword and spear; for the battle is the Lord’s and he will give you into our hand.” David put his hand in his bag, took out a stone, slung it, and struck the Philistine on his forehead; proving to all us mortals, that there will always be someone bigger. There will always be someone faster. The paper tigers will roar, and the giants will rise up for in this life there will always be challenges too big and enemies too strong – cancer, depression, addiction, hatred, ignorance, middle school, just to name a few – all these times where it is easy to feel so all alone and oh so small before forces that could crush us. But as the giants taunt us, we are not alone – don’t forget that. Remember, that at the limit of our human strength is the mighty power of God. From 2nd Corinthians we read, that “through great endurance, in afflictions, hardships, calamities, beatings, imprisonments, riots, labors, sleepless nights, hunger” these Christians endured, not by digging or fighting through. These hardships could not be powered through or out run, but they endured “by purity, knowledge, patience, kindness, holiness of spirit, genuine love, truthful speech, and the power of God; [they were] sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; as poor, yet making many rich; as having nothing, and yet possessing everything,” because like David they trusted in something. Like every man and woman who defeated their own personal Goliath – they turned, not inward, but upward. They stopped fighting, to pray. They remembered, that, to use the words of columnist Leonard Pitts, [God’s truth] will blast through [human power] like a comet through a sandcastle,” and giants can taunt, intimidate, pressure, and boast in their own power – but they are nothing before the mighty power of God who makes the sea waters rise at his command and listens to the cries of his children in trouble, regardless of whether they are documented or undocumented. The poet John Milton said it like this: When I consider how my light is spent, Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide… Thousands at his bidding speed And post o’er Land and Ocean without rest: [But] They also serve who only stand and wait. Open wide your hearts – and remember that “when you pass through the deep waters, you are not alone. When you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through fire, you will not be burned.” For hope begins when we recognize the power greater than ourselves. Amen.

Israel Demands a King

Scripture Lessons: 2nd Corinthians 4: 13 – 5: 1 and 1st Samuel 8: 4-18 Sermon Title: Israel Demands a King Preached on June 10, 2018 Last Sunday, right after church, we headed to the beach. It was a short trip, just for a few days, but it was great. We were in Florida, a very nice place to be this time of year, plus, while we were there we spent time with good friends, rode waves and ate fried shrimp, climbed to the top of a 125-year-old lighthouse, but the highlight for me happened when we walked out on this jetty. A jetty is sort of like a peer, in that it enables you to walk out into the ocean, but it’s lower to the water than a peer, and is mostly made up of great big rocks. On this jetty, on top of the rocks, there was a nice, flat sidewalk, but the rocks where on either side, and when we got to the end of the sidewalk we stopped, leaned against the railing, felt the ocean breeze, looked around, fishing boats were coming in to our right. Then we noticed to our left a small crowd of people, maybe a dozen, gathered around the railing there, looking at something in the water. Someone said: “There are three of them,” which got our attention, so we walked over to where everyone else was looking, and there they were – three manatees swimming in the water, eating seaweed or something off the rocks. It was one of those times where I felt like I was in a movie. I just couldn’t believe what I was seeing, and our girls – they were struck as well. They didn’t say anything – they just watched. They were spellbound as these huge tails came out of the water like they belonged to mermaids. Their noses would come up to take a breath, and they have these kind faces that make you smile. A woman named Laura was so moved by their appearance that she climbed the railing, navigated the rocks, and eased into the water to touch one on the back in her bikini. You might wonder how I knew her name was Laura. That was because her boyfriend or husband shouted: “Laura, if they eat you, can I have your cigarettes?” But we could all understand why she went down there to get close to them. It was an unforgettable moment. A gift from God. And even though it only lasted for a few minutes it was enough to make an impact, so as the manatees swam away and the crowd kind of broke up, without thinking and to no one in particular I said, “that was amazing.” Laura overheard me, and she said, “Thank you.” “Uh, I wasn’t talking about you Laura.” That’s what I’m focused on this morning, because, I wasn’t talking about Laura being amazing. I was talking about God’s majestic creations. I was commenting on the beauty of the earth, the majesty of the sea, not the woman who patted the manatee on the back. But that’s humanity for you. God creates the world, invites Adam to name the animals, and next thing you know, Adam’s walking around like he owns the place. God sets the planets in motion. With a word there are tides and days, sunrise and sunset, but leave it to us to say, “Thanks God, but we’ll take it from here. You might have made the manatee, but I can touch them, so let’s hear it for me! Look how many likes my selfie with the manatee got on Facebook.” Even in the midst of a miracle, sometimes we humans find a way to be naïvely arrogant about our place in the world. There used to be a framed sign on the wall of Bill and Louise’s, now Louise’s, that said: Teenagers! Tired of being hassled by your stupid parents? Act now. Move out, get a job, pay your own bills…while you still know everything. Now, teenagers pushing parents out of the way is nothing new, but ego can get the best of all of us. We all have thought that we knew better than someone who was above us, a boss or a supervisor, and some of us have even thought that they knew better than God. We read in our 2nd Scripture Lesson: When Samuel became old, all the elders of Israel gathered together and came to Samuel and said to him, “You are old, and your sons do not follow in your ways; appoint for us then, a king to govern us, like other nations.” This displeased Samuel, and Samuel prayed to the Lord, and the Lord said to Samuel, “Listen to the voice of the people; for they have not rejected you, but they have rejected me from being king over them. This is a historic moment in the history of Israel. Up until this point, the nation had been governed by judges. Rather than a centralized government, they were a nation of tribes, but now the people demand a king because they have a better idea than the system God put in place, so they want to push God aside and put one of their own on the throne. Such a moment in history begs the question: Just who do they think they are? God brought them out of slavery in Egypt by a mighty hand. Sent down the commandments to order their life. Provided them a land flowing with milk and honey, but now it’s: “Thanks God, but we’ll take it from here.” And we know how this is going to turn out, because the tragic story of human power is still playing itself out. A family was on a long car ride to the beach, and to make conversation, a little girl asked her mother if she’d like to meet the president. Mom said that she’d be honored to meet the President someday; “but what if it were Richard Nixon”, her daughter asked. “Then forget it,” her mom responded. This response seems normal enough. We can see their feet of clay, but the problem isn’t just the flaws in a person. The greater problem is our bad habit of expecting humans to do things that only God can do. The Lord said to Samuel, “Listen to the voice of the people; for they have not rejected you, but they have rejected me from being king over them. And that was one of humanity’s worst ideas, because LeBron James can’t win the NBA finals on his own. It doesn’t matter whether you’re a Kennedy, a Bush, a Kardashian, or even King David, we cannot fill God’s shoes. This morning he is painted on the cover of your bulletin. While robed in grandeur, a prophet points the skull of Uriah the Hittite who David had murdered, illustrating in plain terms the reality that human power is just that - human. Not one of us is immune to corruption. Absolute power corrupts absolutely. That’s the truth, but age after age we press on in foolishness, pushing God out of the way. So, God relents. Listen to the voice of the people in all that they say to you; [God said to the prophet Samuel] for they have not rejected you, but they have rejected me from being king over them. And every time we take the weight of the world and put it on our shoulders or trust the fate of our nation to some other frail human being, we follow in the footsteps of these Israelites who though freed from slavery in Egypt, willingly submit again to a yoke of slavery by calling for a new Pharaoh who goes by a different name. The Lord and the Prophet tried to warn us: “These will be the ways of the king who will reign over you: he will take your sons... He will take your daughters... He will take the best of your fields.” He will take, he will take, he will take – six times the prophet describes what this king will take and not one mention of what this king will give. This speech is without qualification or exception. A king who takes is the only kind of king that there is, because if Laura of the manatees naturally assumes center stage, pushing God out of the way, what will these humans do with absolute power day in and day out? Like David, they will look out from the palace, and will see what they might take as their own. A group of Church leaders have recently authored a new confession of faith. It’s not too unlike the one that we’ll use this morning after the sermon for our affirmation of faith, as this new confession is but a reminder from 21st Century Christian leaders of the sovereignty of God over human power and authority. Article 2 of this new confession, called Reclaiming Jesus and inspired by, among other things, the #MeToo movement, rejects the violent abuse of women, and states: “We lament when such practices seem publically ignored, and thus privately condoned, by those in high positions of leadership. We stand for the respect, protection, and affirmation of women in our families, communities, workplaces, politics, and in our churches.” And this kind of statement must be made again, in the 21st Century, because the powerful of every time and place are prone to take, and this taking begins with ego. So, we have to be careful. I have to be careful. You know, every once in a while, someone will walk in here for the first time and will say to me, “Pastor, this sure is a beautiful church you have here.” You know what I say? Call me Laura, because every time, “Thank you,” I say, as though I could take credit for this, but it’s hard to give credit to one we can’t see. Those disciples who brought the gospel to the church in Corinth, they were wise, and they gave credit to God anyway: “We look not at what can be seen but at what cannot be seen; for what can be seen is temporary, but what cannot be seen is eternal. For we know that if the earthly tent we live in is destroyed, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in heaven.” Now isn’t that a wonderful thought? In light of our world today, let us be bold to consider the house not made by human hands, for even now it is all around us. The day after we saw the manatees I could see it. I walked out on the jetty again, thinking that this time I would be like Laura and I would jump in the water too, but the manatees weren’t there. Instead I saw a group of kids on surf board learning how to ride the waves. Our power is limited. We are but blades of grass, but the Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer who causes the waves to rise and fall, invites us to ride the waves. To worship the Lord and enjoy him forever. To bow our heads before him, and to allow him to share our heavy burdens. What a blessedness, what a peace is mine, leaning, not on my own power, relying, not on human power, but leaning on the everlasting arms. Amen.

The Treasure in Clay Jars

Scripture Lessons: 2 Corinthians 4: 5-12 and 1 Samuel 3: 1-10 Sermon Title: This Treasure in Clay Jars Preached on June 3, 2018 This account I’ve just read, of the young prophet Samuel, is one of the most influential stories ever told. Even if this was the first time that you’ve heard 1st Samuel chapter 3 read, I’m sure it’s not the first time you’ve heard this story. As is true in all its retellings, in 1st Samuel there’s a boy, a virtual orphan, who was left at the Temple by his mother who loved him but couldn’t keep him. So, she left him at the Temple and as she did she sang a song about the mighty hand of God who will bring justice. We suspect that he remembered the song, that he sang it to himself, because it lived on. Its themes are all over Mary’s Magnificat that she sang while she was pregnant with Jesus. But, the song Samuel’s mother sang that Samuel remembered, while powerful and memorable it couldn’t protect him from everything even if it warmed his heart on cold dark nights. The boy, Samuel, was raised by an old man named Eli who had two wicked sons. They took what they wanted, as though everything were theirs. You can imagine it. It was the definition of unfair. As Eli’s sons ate what they wanted, even eating the meat that was to be offered to God in sacrifice, you can picture young Samuel sweeping the floor and saving the crumbs. He wore only a linen tunic his mother made for him. He slept, not in a bedroom, but on the Temple’s cold floor. You know this story. You know it, because it’s not at all different from the story of another orphan, left on the doorstep of the home of a Mr. and Mrs. Dursley who lived on Privet Drive. They had a son, Dudley, who had more birthday presents than he could count on both hands, a second bedroom to store all that his parents gave him, but where did little Harry sleep? He slept cramped in the closet under the stairs just as Samuel slept on the bare Temple floor. You know this story. It’s like that of James, whose parents died in an automobile accident involving an escaped rhinoceros. He was sent to live with these two horrible aunts, and while he knew the sea was nearby, he was confined to his yard where an ancient peach tree eked out its meager existence. But the tree, like James, it didn’t die or give up – no, but it struggled. However, despite the struggle, in time, that measly tree grew a peach so large that James crawled up into it and lived out as great an adventure as you can imagine. You see – you know this story. You love it, because it embodies hope, and so, you want it to be true, but if you know the story well then you know that the one who has the hardest time believing this story could ever be true is the little boy who finds himself right in the middle of it all. From 1st Samuel we read: At that time Eli, whose eyesight had begun to grow dim so that he could not see, was lying down in his room; the lamp of God had not yet gone out, and Samuel was lying down in the temple of the Lord, where the ark of God was. Then the Lord called, “Samuel! Samuel!” and he said, “Here I am!” but ran to Eli, and said, “Here I am, for you called me.” But [Eli] said, “I did not call; lie down again.” Now why did the boy Samuel assume that this voice calling him was Eli, his old guardian, and not God? That’s like asking, why wasn’t Harry Potter patiently awaiting his acceptance letter to Hogwarts School or why wasn’t James checking the old tree daily, waiting for his escape peach to grow. Like both Harry and James, Samuel assumed that it was the old man who was calling him because he had long ago learned his place in this world – long ago he had learned that while some people are destined for greatness, others are destined to sweep the floors. While some people are born into privilege, it is the lot of others to accept the scraps. That while God calls some people, that while God has something to say to some people, that while God has important work for some people, young Samuel had been taught by the bullies of the world that scrawny boys like him are wise to accept their meager lot. It’s a shame, isn’t it? How many people, young and old, accept the lie the world tells as the truth, but some are blessed to be woken up. That’s what happened in the Sword and the Stone. That great Disney movie where a young boy named Arthur, he can’t fill up his hand-me-down robes, he can barely carry the sword of the knight he serves as page, so it’s no surprise that this young boy – you remember, they call him Wart, and Wart forgot the knight’s sword back at the inn. Only in desperation does he pull the sword from the stone, a legendary feat that only the chosen king was prophesied to be able to do. When Wart finds out what it means that he’s pulled the sword from the stone – that he’s the one destined to be king of England, he’s the most surprised of anybody. Why? Because the world has given him his name and his lot – he’s accepted both, because those who sleep under the stairs can’t help but assume they deserve it. On the one hand, there are some people who are born on third base and assume they’ve hit a triple, but others make their bed in the ash heap and assume they too should go out with the trash, because the way we are talked to, the way we are addressed, the way we are treated, it all informs who we believe we are. Did you know that they called her Cinderella because, without a proper blanket, she made her bed in the smoldering coals, and the cinders burnt holes in her dress? But there’s more to life than the house of an evil step sister and her spoiled daughters. There’s more to your identity than the hard words you’ve been told, for as hard as they may try, their words can’t define everything or everyone, and it is God who said, “Let light shine out of darkness.” So: The Lord called Samuel again, a third time. And he got up and went to Eli, and said, “Here I am, for you called me.” Then Eli perceived that the Lord was calling the boy. Therefore Eli said to Samuel, “Go, lie down; and if the Lord calls you, you shall say, ‘Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening.’” So Samuel went and lay down in his place. Now the Lord came and stood there, calling as before, “Samuel! Samuel!” And Samuel said, “Speak, for your servant is listening.” Can you imagine? Can you imagine what this scrawny, beaten down boy must have felt in that moment? Perhaps he felt like the little boy on your bulletin cover. Playing marbles in the dust, only to look up and see that he’s on the moon. It reminds me of Dr. Sam Matthews, who just retired from 1st Methodist Church. He was pastor there for the last 15 years, and despite all the conflict that marked the beginning of his ministry there, today 1st Methodist is the largest church in Marietta. He took me out to lunch once and he told me that sometimes people will ask him if he ever dreamed he’d be the pastor of such a large Marietta church, and he said, “When I was growing up I couldn’t imagine myself serving any church. Not one of the small country churches I grew up going to and certainly never would I have dared imagine serving this one.” You can’t help but imagine the same kind of thoughts were in the minds of those disciples who brought the message to the first Christians in Corinth, for there in 2nd Corinthians we read: We have this treasure in clay jars, so that it may be made clear that this extraordinary power belongs to God and does not come from us. Now Samuel already knew that, because it is easy for the Samuel’s, the Harry Potter’s, the James’, and the Cinderella’s to remember that their treasure is a gift. But those evil step sisters – they speak from entitlement, greed, and envy and rather than fan the flame, they try to put it out. Like Scout’s teacher, Miss Caroline, in To Kill a Mockingbird. She was from Winston County in North Alabama and she looked down her nose at her pitiful 1st grade students, especially the one who had no need for her Winston County charity. Scout told it like this: As I read the alphabet a faint line appeared between her eyebrows, and after making me read most of My First Reader and the stock-market quotations from the Mobile Register aloud, she discovered that I was literate and looked at me with more than faint distaste. This teacher reminds me of the man who sat with his back towards the preacher at the royal wedding two weeks ago. Because the sermon didn’t come from him he couldn’t even turn his head, though those were mighty words proclaimed by Bishop Michael Curry. The opposite of that man’s demeanor was that of Andrew McIntosh last Sunday as Joe Brice preached at the 8:30 service. As Joe went on about the buzzard that hit his trailer, and the kindness of a mechanic, you should have seen Andrew listening. It was as though Andrew were thinking: “I know this guy lives in Paulding County, but he has something to say!” Now that that’s the truth. And we are all such clay jars. Inside our mortal flesh is treasure, and the reason we tell this story again and again – this story of Samuel, the boy prophet, called by God, is because it is our story too. Like him we have known those who see only the clay jar, overlooking the treasure, but not so with God. So while all the wicked step brothers and step sisters believe that the world is their oyster and they’re free to take whatever they want, remember that whether you believe you deserve nothing or everything you’re wrong – because we aren’t extraordinarily special or extraordinarily plain – we are clay jars containing a treasure. We are disciples entrusted with good news. We are slaves who serve the master. We are guests at the table of the king. We are mortal flesh, blades of grass, but within us burns a light, though it is not ours. Like Paul and the disciples in Corinth, regardless of what we have heard from those who have pushed us down, we must live knowing that within our clay jar, our feeble frame, is a treasure that can change lives and set the world on fire. Amen.